


Underworld Atlantis

by tielan



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Underworld (2003 2006 2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Drama, Gen, crackfic, vampire AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-27
Updated: 2010-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-14 03:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/144978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a winter's night in New York, two pairs of Death Dealers meet...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underworld Atlantis

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SGA Team community's "Team Teyla AU 2008".

It was a New York’s winter night like any other.

Rubble and smoke, grey slush and blue shadows, bitter cold and rasping frost, punctuated by the city’s bright lights, the rumble and toot of cars and their horns, and always, somewhere, the distant wail of sirens.

Just another winter’s night in New York.

In the gritty winter cold of a brick alleyway, the shadows gave voice. “They like gothic scenarios.” Deep and soft, with a slightly gravel edge to it, the sound of that voice had made many a woman shiver with anticipation or excitement.

The woman waiting in the shadows across the alley was unmoved; for one, the alleyway was filthy and smelly, for two, she was quite familiar with her companion. Teyla Emmagen shifted her position in the icy dark, easing the stiffness of cooled muscles as she exhaled. A human would have been breathing mist from between her lips at these temperatures, but not a wisp emerged as she murmured, “They are lycan.”

She turned her head enough to see the faintest shadow of movement - a shrug of the shoulders from the depths of the dark. “They’re stupid.”

“I suggest you blame Hollywood for instilling a romanticised vision of older eras in the minds of the young.”

“Can’t I just put it down to lycans having bad taste?”

Her mouth curved. “That is also a possibility.”

“Have I ever mentioned that I hate winter?”

“Yes.”

“Is it worth mentioning again?”

“Ronon, if you continue on in this way, I shall be forced to use one of the bullets in this gun on you. I can assure you that it will hurt you more than it will me.”

“And if I shoot you first?”

Teyla snorted, then paused. At the same time, Ronon lifted his head, almost sniffing the air. “Close.”

“Coming closer,” she murmured and shifted with delicate care. Lycan ears were sharp.

Vampire senses were sharper.

There were four of them - male, unkempt, reckless. Even before they rounded the corner of the long alleyway, Teyla knew they were running on instinct. She could taste it in the air, the sweaty tinge of energy and exultation. What evil they had done tonight, she did not know. But they were lycan and she was vampire and the two had fought a thousand years and more in a battle without end.

Until mere weeks ago, they had believed they were winning.

The bitterness of that knowledge was what steeled her as she stepped out into the alleyway, weapon raised, and fired two warning shots into the head of the lead lycan.

A moment later, Ronon was out of his corner, expertly kicking an empty bin into the path of the oncoming lycans. Two skidded to a stop, the third turned tail.

Teyla lifted her second weapon and aimed for him at the corner, even as she steadily fired rounds at the closer trio, bringing them down to their knees. The lycan scrabbled for purchase on the ice-slick street and skidded into a collection of trash cans that rattled and clashed with echoing intensity. She fired one more shot into him, then lowered her weapon to fire several more into the oncoming lycans.

It was an uneven fight; four lycans against two Death Dealers. It would still have been an uneven if there’d been double the number of lycans - of that, Teyla was certain.

The sharp retorts faded away, leaving only the backdrop of sirens and the rumbling echo of the subway as a train went off down the Lexington Avenue Express line.

In the darkness, the scent of her weapons’ fire rose acrid over the stink of garbage and stale urine.

Ronon stalked forward and flipped one over with his toe. “Amateurs as well as stupid.”

Teyla laughed, beginning to flip the safety catches back on her weapons, then turning faster than mere mortal eyes could follow and bringing up her weapons. Ronon was only a step behind her in reaction, standing astride the alleyway with one gun pointed forward and one pointed back. “Come out of the shadows with your hands clear.”

She didn’t think they were enemies - enemies would have shot them from behind. On the other hand, she found herself coolly suspicious of anyone who skulked in shadows while a firefight went on.

Even vampires.

He emerged from behind a dumpster, stockily built for all his height, his hands up in the air. One of them held a PDA. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t shoot.”

Teyla narrowed her eyes, even as Ronon’s gun flew up and tracked the man who rose from the dark shadows of the fire escape and dropped lightly to the ground.

Pale fingertips touched the icy ground, resting there for balance. Then he stood, his hands spreading slowly out from his body, the faint smile on his lips deliberately non-threatening. “Good shooting.”

“Thank you,” Teyla said. It seemed they had run into the local coven.

Ronon merely grunted. “Who’re you?”

He glanced at Ronon, the steady measurement of a man accustomed to commanding others. Teyla took the measure of the other three in an instant, then skimmed her gaze down the length of his body, noting everything from the tread-based boots on his feet to the slight bulge beneath his jacket that signalled a weapons harness not unlike that which was used by the NYPD.

“John Sheppard, Death Dealer with the Atlantis coven. Rodney McKay.”

“Not a Death Dealer,” added the stocky man. “Now, if you’ll just put the weapons down...?”

Teyla slipped her weapons into her hip holsters, but let her hands rest on the butt of her guns. “Teyla Emmagan and Ronon Dex for the Pegasus covens.”

She watched them process that information. Watched John Sheppard’s eyes narrow. “Pegasus covens are based out in the southwest. You’re a long way from home.”

She flashed ivory teeth. “We bring news of Amelia and the Council.”

They tensed. “What happened?”

“An ambush.”

“An ambush?” McKay stared. In the shadows, his eyes - already pale - had begun to turn luminous. “The Ordoghaz coven said it was safe!”

Ronon bared his teeth, showing sharp points. “Kraven lied.”

Sheppard swore viciously. “We offered safe passage...”

“We know only little of the detail,” Teyla said. “We have managed to cobble together fragments from the London coven. They have strong ties to the Pegasus coven, which is why we received the news first. But we have been assigned to speak with the coven leaders across the continent.”

“This probably isn’t the best place for a pow-wow,” Sheppard observed, reaching into his jacket. Ronon half-raised his weapon, but it was only an earpiece. He brandished it with a faint smile. “Believe me, I’m quite harmless.”

“Unlikely,” snorted Ronon, not lowering the weapon.

Pale eyes flickered to Teyla’s face. “Twitchy, isn’t he?”

While she was inwardly amused at his comment, Teyla allowed no hint of a smile to touch her face.

“Ronon.” He only needed a little encouragement to lower the weapon.

“Lorne, this is Sheppard. I’ve got a quartet for cleanup in sector 4B, Winston Alley. Caliber is...” He arched a brow at Teyla.

“.22 and .45,” she said. “Silver threaded.”

“Twenty-two and forty-five, threaded. Multiple wounds, get them to the Bronx Holding. We’ll question them later.”

“Yes, sir. Bates is on detail.”

“Right. We’ve also got two Dealers from the Pegasus covens, five-eight female Emmagan, six-two male Dex. Taking them back to the club to see Elizabeth. Meet you at one-eighty-fourth in five.”

“Copy that, sir.”

Teyla exchanged a glance with Ronon. The Death Dealer commander was well-organised, well-prepared. More prepared than several of the southwest covens had been when the lycan hordes fell upon them.

“You have cleanup squads?” Ronon’s question was a challenge as much as an inquiry.

“You don’t?”

“We take ‘em out into the desert and dump the bodies. Coyotes usually take ‘em. Where we going?”

McKay waved his hands around, signalling a halt to the conversation. “Wait, wait, wait - you _dump_ the bodies out in the _desert_?”

Ronon shrugged. “Fastest way to dispose of them. You didn’t answer the question.”

Sheppard was looking at her with an eyebrow lifted in query. _Is he for real?_ In response, she just smiled. Ronon was his own vampire; she did not hold his leash.

“We’re going back to base,” McKay snapped. “Headquarters. The ranch. Whatever you southwestern types call it.”

Teyla found the short temper amusing, which she thought strange. There was a comfort in his annoyance, as though the frustration at the smaller things could mitigate the problems with matters too great for any one coven to deal with.

She turned to Sheppard, who was still watching her like a hawk. Whatever he thought of Ronon, he had made his decision. Of her, she had no doubt, he was less certain.

“Where are your headquarters?” The question was meant to provide information just as much as it was to have him speak.

“Half an hour’s drive.” Sheppard turned, and gestured with one pale hand down the length of the alleyway. “If you’ll just step this way.”

 **\- tbc? -**


End file.
